Wraith
by Maya Sushi
Summary: The man scowled and raised his gun in my direction. I froze. Honestly, the possiblity that I could die did not occur to me until this moment. But it seemed irrevocably determined that I would. I hope Edward ends up okay. That's that last thing I do. Hope.
1. Part One

Disclaimer:

I do not own FMA nor would I have time to own FMA, not to say I wouldn't MAKE time if it was a possibility. But I haven't received any offers lately, so...

_**A/N: **_**I HAVE RETURNED! **I guess I wasn't gone for that long, but it FELT like a LONG time. My mother's computer broke and she decided that my computer was going to become HER computer. So it's finally fixed and I've got it back. Luckily, with my busy schedule, who knows how, but between my constant flow of softball I managed to write a little. The only problem was that it was not on any of my _current_ chapter stories, it was an entirely different one. Which started out as a short one-shot and then started getting just a teeny bit long so is probably going to be two chapters. So, it's not like a multi-chapter thing, it's still short, but it's all that managed to come out of me while I was gone and not very inspired. Too much Invader Zim distracting me from FMA (STARTED WATCHING IT AND I AM IN LOVE too bad Nick is DUMB and canceled it when they did!) Anywho...

* * *

_**Wraith**_

_**Part One**_

Four A.M.

I wake up and I'm going through the motions. Pull my clothes on. Shirt. Shorts. My socks are still on from the day before. I take them off. Down the stairs. There are twelve, it's dark so I count. To the kitchen. Flip the switch. Light filters in.

I close my eyes for a second because the light is so sudden and bright that it hurts. When I open my eyes again he's there; he's smiling, but I jump and press my hand over my mouth to cover my imminent scream. He scared me, and now I'm taking this big, deep breath to collect myself and he's giggling like a little boy.

"Ed," I scold, "don't be dumb,"

He tries to stop himself from laughing. He succeeds only minutely, "Win, I was down here first,"

"You didn't have to scare me," I whisper, pushing past him and moving toward the cupboard that held the glasses.

"You could have seen me," he laughed now, albeit quietly, "not my fault. But I can apologize if I really must O' Wise Queen of All Queens Winry Rockbell, my sweet!"

I scoff, "I see your sarcasm is fully functioning at an early hour. The hell are you doing up?"  
"I could ask you the same question. Except I won't, because you seem to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed," Edward said as he reached around me and grabbed himself a cup. He meandered over to the refrigerator, opening it and scowling at its contents.

"How about hot chocolate Ed?" I suggest.

"Sounds good," he agrees, and he's putting the kettle on, "except with water," his tongue sticks comically out of his mouth at me, "no milk,"

I'm smiling now despite myself and despite how terrible his hot chocolate with water tastes and despite my bad mood, "Alright, whatever you say,"

I sit down at the table and shiver a little, it's cold out tonight. Wondering why I didn't put warmer clothes on I watch Ed bustle around the kitchen, getting what he'll need.

All of the sudden he's in front of me with a jacket in his hands. When did that happen? I'm obviously more tired than I thought.

"You look cold."

I take the jacket and smile at him, nodding my thanks. It's his infamous red jacket, bold with pride and ripe with experience, and I drown in the presence of it. Pulling the collar up to my nose I inhale deeply. I'm disappointed when it doesn't smell like him. It smells like the house, like Resembool, and it should smell like adventure and worldly things and Edward. I can't remember what he smells like.

"Here we are," he says as he places my share of the hot chocolate before me, "now, young lady, I must ask. What has you up at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep," I say, taking a long sip of the drink before me, sighing with satisfaction at the flood of warmth. I bury myself deeper into Ed's jacket. Ed hasn't touched his drink yet, maybe he was waiting for it to cool down some, "I had a bad dream,"

"Want to talk about it?" he sounds concerned.

"I don't remember it," I answer honestly. He smiles at me and I smile back, already feeling better.

"Maybe that's a good thing," he offers and I think, maybe it is.

* * *

_Edward is yelling at a man to stop. I don't know what he's doing but Ed sounds angry so it must be bad. I'm scared, and all I can see is Ed's back. He's wearing that long sleeve black tee-shirt that I love the way he looks in, and his light brown trousers that match so well but hardly ever see the light of day. His hair is braided today, he hasn't done that in a while. Now he's taking a step forward. I can see the man in front of him now. He's holding a gun and he's yelling back at Ed now too. He shakes the barrel of the weapon in my direction and I'm screaming out. Edward pushes me further behind him with his right arm and it feels cold even through the fabric of his shirt. I'm burying my head into his shoulders – broad shoulders, when did that happen? – so that I can't see the man anymore. Ed's backing up slowly, one arm is still touching my side and I feel the other one stretch up, or out, or forward. I'm not entirely sure which one. I'm trying to make out the words so I don't feel so helplessly scared. They're talking in angry whispers now. _

_"I swear to the holy God and Father you military fuck, I'll shoot everyone here," the man with the gun hissed. I wonder about what God would think about his language and his threats, if he's real. The gunman was obviously not thinking about the same thing._

_"That doesn't have to happen," Ed replies, calm Ed, strong Ed, easy Ed, "no one has to die. You don't really want to kill these people."_

_"I want to kill you," I hear him shouting and it hurts my ears and my heart, "or maybe your little girlfriend should go first."_

_"Damn it," Ed snarls, he claps his hands together, alchemy flowing through his body. I see the man react, his eyes growing wide. He knows this though, I can see it, he's prepared. He's quick._

_"Ed," I whimper in warning, "Ed!"_

_A shot rings out._Edward's not at the table anymore, and I feel groggy and stiff because I haven't slept much at all the last few nights. He's always been up too, so at least my nights haven't been without company. The clock says that it's five in the morning and I wonder where he is. My cup is half-empty before me and I think that I don't remember it happening but I must have fallen asleep. Maybe Ed went up to bed, or out to the cemetery. He's there a lot.

* * *

"Winry? I heard you talking, are you okay?" Al's voice drifts from the next room, he sounds tired.

"I'm fine Al," I assure him, "I just couldn't sleep,"

When he walks in he's giving me this weird, appraising look that I can't understand, then he says, "Again?"

When I nod he says, "Wanna talk about it?"

"That's alright," I say with a smile, "I already talked about it,"

Al smiles back at me but I can tell he's still worried. He's such a worry-wart. I laugh, "Is everyone up?" I ask. I want to find Ed.

"Yeah, except Den," he says with a laugh and looks at the dog who's fast asleep at my feet. I laugh too.

"I'm going outside," I finally finish, "I'll be back in a little bit,"

I stand up and make my way toward the door. My fingers find the edges of my newly acquired jacket and I pull the clothing tighter around me. I forgot about the jacket, I hope Ed's not cold outside without it. I grab another so that I can wear it when I give him his back. Al looks sad so I pat his shoulder when I walk by, he's always upset about something it seems. I feel bad that he's always worrying.

Al sighs and points to the table, looking confused, "There are two cups there," he says.

I peer over at the tale and notice the contents of the cup, "He didn't drink any of it," I muse, before making my way out into the misty morning. I wonder why.

* * *

_The first thing I do is scream as loud as I can. I'm not the only one. The gunshot is like a cue for pandemonium. Then there's another shot, and then two more, and now it seems as if everyone's screaming. One more and there's this stabbing pain in my leg. It's burning and burning and I just want it to stop but I'm panicky because I need to see Edward. Is he okay? Oh no, he's shot, oh no. I feel a crushing pressure against my leg and all of the sudden there's a pair of golden eyes staring down at me._

_"Edward?" I gasp, but there's no doubt, no one else has eyes like that, "are you okay?"_

_"Winry, I'm fine," he calls over the screaming, his hands are both on my leg, and there's blood pooling between his fingers. My blood? He's pushing hard as if he's trying desperately to put it all back in me with only his hands, that makes me want to laugh. That won't work._

_"Did I get shot?" I ask, feeling strangely calm and already knowing the answer. At least Edward is okay._

_"Oh no, Win, I'm so sorry, this is my fault," he doesn't feel the need to answer because he knows I already know I got shot. The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, "I should have done something to stop him quicker, and then I started using alchemy and the first thing he does is shoot into the crowd. Like he's proving to me he can. Then I got him down and he shoot three more times! Then he looked at me for a second and then looks straight at you and shoots, Win, it's all my fault!" he's rambling. I'm feeling a little faint but that's okay. My thigh is burning like an inferno but I'm aware that this won't kill me. I'll be fine._

_"Don't," I say, "it's just a flesh wound," and I smile._

_"Shut up," he says with a sad smile. I'm okay though, and so is he. Right now that's all that I need to know_.

* * *

My hand reaches out and I knock a fist one, two, three times against the wood and bark of the tree behind him, "Can I come in?" I ask, watching his back closely. I don't doubt that he already knew I was here. He always knows.

He didn't say anything in return.

"You never even drank your hot chocolate," I try again, waiting for a laugh, a smile, a word, or response. Anything.

I get my wish, he turns and he smiles this small sad little thing that's constantly adorning his face, "I wasn't thirsty,"

"Yes, you were," I say matter-of-factly, "you're the one who went looking for something to drink in the first place."

He didn't say anything back, even though I was wrong. I was actually the one who went and opened the glass cupboard. He just turns back around with a small laugh. I look down at the red jacket bundled in my arms, that's right, I'd meant to give it back to him. He must be cold. "Hey," I venture, tapping his shoulder and holding out the jacket, "you should probably take this back, it's chilly out here,"

He just looks at me with this odd expression on his face that I can't make out the meaning of for a few moments. I just look at his golden eyes and wait. It's like he's sizing things up, calculating the possibilities. All of the sudden I'm this strange, puzzling equation to him that needs to be scrutinized and dissected. I don't really mind, the attention from him is nice. But I wish he would take his jacket back, I feel bad. After a while he just shakes his head again and says, "Nah, that's okay, I want you to keep it,"

"But –" I protest, but he stops me.

"Really, I'm not even cold. Please?" he almost sounds like he's begging, but that's ridiculous because Ed would never beg. But I'm stunned by his tone of voice anyway so I nod my head dumbly and sit down on the grass. I pat the spot next to me and drape his jacket across the top of a nearby headstone that the name has worn off of for safe keeping. I'm signaling for him to sit as well. He does.

"Alphonse is worried about you, you know," Ed said calmly, not looking in my direction.

"Why?" I as. I'm half-hoping that this is his way of telling me that _he's_ worried about me.

"You've been acting odd lately. Ever since _that_ day," Ed said, his face cringed up at the memory and I scowled.

"I got shot,"

"But that's not all that happened," Ed said, as if he were reminding me of something I had been silly to forget. My frown deepened.

"I _haven't _been acting weird," I say, aware that I sound just a little bit defensive, "is it about the nightmares?"

"You know, he likes you,"

"What?" I ask, shocked.

"He's had a crush on you for a very long time," he still wasn't looking at me. Why was he telling me this? Was he afraid that I was interested in Alphonse? Surely he knew that I wasn't. It had always been him. It was always him.

"So?" I reply, trying to sound uninterested in his statement.

He turned toward me so suddenly that I almost jumped back in surprise, "What?" disbelief was in his voice, "You don't like him back? Why not?"

I try to hide the hurt in my voice. Maybe, hopefully, he was just taken off guard, "because I_ love _you."

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Okay... Okay.


	2. Part Two

_**Disclaimer:**_ Oh deary me, I do not own this anime/manga/awesomeness. Whatever shall I do? Write fanfiction probably.

_**A/N: **_Weeeeeee!

* * *

_Then, all of the sudden, Edward isn't above me anymore. I hear him yell out in surprise and I hear a gruff, masculine grunt of anger. "Edward?" I whimper, because I'm not sure what's going on. I decide that I can sit up, push through the pain, grit my teeth and pull myself forward, for once in my life, because somewhere in my mind someone is screaming for me to do something. I'm not sure what that something is, but there's this desperation clawing with panicked talons at the corners of my mind and I look around me slowly._

_There's a big puddle of blood pooled around me on the floor. Most of it's mine, I think, but I think that some of it isn't too. I see chaos, so it's hard to make anything out really. Everyone is screaming and yelling and crying and in a rush to get nowhere and I can't find where Ed has gone. My leg hurts like hell and I swear audibly when someone steps over me and jostles the limb. Pain blinds me for a moment but I hear still. I hear one, gut-wrenching, heart-stopping scream of pain above all others._

_Apparently, no one else does._

_It's so loud in my ears that when it's over it's echoeing and whispering to me. Look the the right, a little farther, now crawl forward. It's full of commands. Ones that I happily follow without question. Because that was **Edward** that I just heard, and something has **happened** to him._

_I don't comprehend much when I finally locate the blonde locks of the boy I have always, secretly, loved. His flesh arm is twisted in this way that looks so unnatural that it makes my gut turn a full circle and bile rise up in my throat. There is a bone that has peirced through his flesh, unyielding against the wrong turns and scarlet blood that was this boy's limb. His teeth were clenched tightly together and his jaw set in a feirce mask of endurance._

_I, however, was terrified._

_There was a man over him, his foot in the crease of Edward's twisted elbow. The gunman, I realize. There's blood on his face from a recently disfigured nose and his hand is clenching at his jaw. That looks wrong too. Ed, I know suddenly, Ed has broken his jaw and his nose, and now he has broken Ed's arm._

_I feel a surge of anger rise up in me, and I pick up the first object my hand falls on near me and throw it with as much strength as I can muster towards the man._

* * *

His topaz eyes close and he shakes his head, "No," he states, "you can't."

I feel less hurt and more angry now, "I most certainly can do whatever I please," I tell him. I love him and he can't change that. I _know_ he feels something for me. I absolutely and _sure _of it. I _know_ it.

"We'll talk about this later," he says, looking around him. As he gets up I follow his actions. I don't want to talk about this later. This is not something he can just dismiss and avoid and ignore. I want to talk about this now. He turns on his heels before I even have an opportunity to argue and strides away from me. He's out of the cemetery and I don't even remember seeing him walk all the way out. He's fast. He's away in a moment, the wrong direction. Not back home, "I promise!" he calls back. The promise makes me feel a little better. For whatever reason.

I look back at the way he should be going, and I see Alphonse walking toward me. All dirty blonde hair and silvery eyes. He was handsome, very handsome, sure, but he wasn't Edward. And I _loved_ Ed.

"Winry?" he asked as he approached, "Are you alright?"

I watch him as he walks through this land of cold, stone figures. He looks so lonely. He sits beside me where I had retaken my previous position and he stares at the unmarked grave upon which Edward's jacket lay. He fingered the material wordlessly, a strange look of longing happening upon his face.

"I wish I could be more like him," Al said with a sigh, "he was always so brave,"

"Always brave," I nod my agreement. Brave would be the first of many words that would automatically come to my mind at the mention of Edward's name. Alphonse looks at me and takes my smile in for a second before hesitantly grabbing my hand in his own. His flesh is warm and soft. His uncalloused fingers fit against mine too well, but not as well as Edward's rough, caring hands.

"I'm worried about you, and how you've been handling everything," Al mumbles, looking at me expectantly.

"I got shot," I say, like earlier, except this time I add in, "twice,"

"I know, but, everything else too," he mutters. I wonder why they both keep doing this to me.

As I'm not entirely sure what either of them are referring to.

"I'm fine Al, really," I reassure him.

"Okay," he concedes in defeat, "I just... You know..." his hand tightens around mine, "...Care about you..." and I hear Edward's voice in my mind. _You know he likes you. He's had a crush on you for a very long time._ It doesn't sound all that bad, Al and I, but it can't be because somewhere down that road is Edward and I _love_ him. So I tear my hand away from Al's just as he looks like he's about to say something to me again. He looks put off and hurt by my action and I feel bad, but I have to go find Ed. I know he feels something for me and he has to set me straight or I won't ever be able to stop feeling so confused. He has to help me understand. My feet move almost on their own accord in the direction that Ed had retreated to noly minutes earlier. Alphonse looked less hurt and more genuinely concerned now.

"Where are you going?" he calls out to me, "Winry! Where are you going?"

I shake my head, "Sorry Al, but Ed told me that he would talk to me about something."

I didn't look back to see the expression on his face.

* * *

_**A/N: **_Oh, goodness, sorry about the terrible shortness. I was going to make it two chapters but I just felt like I wanted to make it three and this was the middle of the full chapter that would have ended it. So, here's the newly appointed second chapter of three. I know it seems rushed, I'm aware of that, but there's good reason for it. As Winry is... Well, I suppose I CAN'T tell you what Winry is... Because that would ruin the story. Silly me. :)


	3. Part Three

Disclaimer:

See, see, see, three birds are in a tree. Say, say, say, I don't own FMA. (Who wants to tell me about how DUMB that was? Haha)

_**A/N:**_ I think my last _author's note_ might have been a cliff-hanger. :) Maybe?

The secret was... Winry is... Winry is... Winry is... a girl? I don't remember what I was going to say last chapter actually. So, hah, guess you'll never know! :P

* * *

_**Wraith **_

_**Part Three**_

I had no idea where Edward would be. I was glad, however, that as the day aged and the sun rose high in the sky it heated up considerably. I realize that I had left Ed's jacket back at the cemetery, but that was alright, Alphonse would bring it home with him. Which brought me back to the subject on hand. I think that I'm not sure why any of this is really happening. I know that Al likes me, and I _know_ that Edward likes me as well. Doesn't he? I'm sure of it. But...

"Edward!" I call, my voice loud and almost desperate in the bright mid-day air around me. "Ed! I want to talk! Where are you?" calling for the young man for almost an hour and a half had not been something that I had planned on when I had followed him out of the house this morning. Frankly, I did not enjoy it.

"Winry?" I hear my name, _finally, _in his calm, warm voice and I breathe a sigh of relief. I turn to face him and stubbornly cross my arms.

"You promised we would talk," I'm telling him this as he stands from were he had been lying in the grass of a field to my right. He walks over to me quickly, looking anxiously in the direction that I came from.

"Did you leave Al?" he ponders incredulously.

I nod.

"Why?" he sounds shocked, "Why would you do that?"

"I had to talk to you," I'm reaching out for him. He leads me back into the grass, but never takes my hand, "Edward, I love you,"

"Winry," he's shaking his head again, "you need to accept what you feel for Al. Let me go."

I'm angry, "No! I know you love me too! Why won't you just admit it?"  
"Why won't I admit it? It doesn't matter! That's why Winry. There's nothing for us!" he's yelling at me now.

I have to make him see, I have to, "But you haven't denied me! Tell me you don't love me,"

"I did love you! I _did!"_ he's sad now, I can tell. I don't know why. But at least he's admitted it. I was right. He loves me.

I run to him but he turns and steps away. I do not attempt to hide the hurt that makes its way onto my face, "Is this about that day? It wasn't your fault I got hurt."

"It was," he mumbles, "and you're not the only one who got shot,"

"it was that man's fault Edward! Not yours," I tell him. He shakes his head.

* * *

_It's this jagged piece of metal that seems vaguely familiar to me. I realize with a start that it must be a piece of Edward's automail. His arms are broken, both of them. The metal flies through the __air and lands solidly against the side of the man's face, biting into his flesh. As he stumbled I hear the gun in his hand go off and feel another stab of fiery pain erupt in my leg. The same leg. I think morbidly, revelling in the convenience. Blood drips down the side of his face now, and he turns to me with anger and hatred burning in his eyes._

_"So, his little girlfriend is still trying to fight battles for him, huh?" it doesn't some much like a question, so I don't feel the need to address it._

_"Stay the fuck away from him," I hiss, venom staining my voice._

* * *

"Everyone who got shot that day lived, Edward," I remind him, "they all got better,"

"What are you talking about?" he asks me, his mouth is a hard, unforgiving line.

"It wasn't your fault,"

"I can't love you anymore, I'm sorry,"

"Edward, stop it,"

"At least I saved you..." he whispers, turning to me again with a sorrowful expression.

* * *

_The man scowled and raised his gun in my direction. I froze. Honestly, the possibility that I could die had not occurred to me until this moment. But it seemed irrevocably determined that I would. I hope Edward ends up okay. That's the last thing I do. Hope._

_"I love you," I whisper, pleadingly, in his direction. I will not look at the gunman. I will not see my fate. I'd rather die with Edward in my eyes._

* * *

"Alphonse is coming," he tells me, and motions his head in the direction I came from. There's no one there, but I assume he is right.

"So? I love you Ed, not Al, and he should know that," I demand his attention with my whole being now; my stance, my eyes, and my words.

"Please?" he begs, "Where has loving me ever got you? Besides, it doesn't matter anymore. I'm not here for you, but Al, he always has been. I've always loved you but please, for me, love him,"

He must be crazy.

"But I can't because I love _you!"_

"No!" he yells, his fists clenched tight and I take a frightened step backward at his intensity, "You can't because I CAN'T LOVE YOU!"

* * *

_In my eyes I see the words, my final words, sink into the mind of the broken boy before me. His face falls into a mask of sheer emotion I cannot identify, and he screams so raw and angry and it hurts my ears to even listen to the sound. He's up in a split second, in front of the gun that's pointed in my direction. There's a flash of blue alchemical light. I'm blinded._

* * *

"WHY NOT!" I demand answers. I must know.

"You know why," he's shaking, furious and sad and denying. Denying what he feels for me. I don't understand.

"I don't understand,"

"What do you mean you don't understand?" he asks. I hear anger in his voice and some of my strength, my resolve, weakens before the intensity of his gaze.

Alphonse is here now, I hear him call my name from his place on the path. I don't acknowledge him.

"Help me," I plead, "make me understand, Edward."

His expression falls and his blank eyes look at me now as if they see through me. He 's not looking at me. He's looking at somehting else. Some thing more, "You really don't understand, do you?"

"ANSWER ME EDWARD!" I scream to the boy who is staring at the ground.

"Stop it Winry!" Alphonse calls, scared.

"GOD DAMN IT ED! TELL ME!"

"EDWARD IS _DEAD!"_

* * *

_The awful sound of a gunshot rings out through the air once more, and I close my eyes, expecting death, expecting release. But there is nothing. There is no pain, no peace, no silence. Someone is screaming. A woman. And now a man, and a few others, someone's crying, gasping, calling for help. But there is still nothing. No death. No end. _

_So I open my eyes, and I see._

_I see Edward, my love, my sweet, oh Edward. And I watch as the blood erupts from his back like a volcano of morbid scarlet hues. I see his arm, his mechanical arm, my creation, piercing through the chest of the man before him, the man who had held the gun. And I see, I watch, as the two fall cold, lifeless, dead, to the ground before me._

_And I scream._

_Edward is dead._

* * *

"Edward is dead!" Al is screaming again, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest. He's telling me things I don't want to hear but I can't get away, "Edward is dead! Edard is dead. Edward is dead." he's quieter now. He's crying, I realize, "Brother died," he whispers, after choking on a small sob, and he buries his head in my neck, "brother died."

I see Ed nod, "I'm dead, Winry, you knew that. You know that I'm dead."  
I shake my head, I refuse to believe it. Edward's _right here_ and they're lying to me, "but I love him," I tell the air around me. Someone please listen.

"I loved you too," Edward whispers.

"He loved you too," Alphonse whispers, "and I love you."

"What?"  
"Brother loved you and I love you and please, please, stop doing this," Al says, and there are tears pouring from his eyes.

I look around me and notice Ed is gone. His jacket is still in Al's arms. _Nah, that's okay, I want you to keep it. Please?_ I look up at Al's silver eyes and I smile and shake my head and say, "he told me he wanted me to keep this, but you can have it if you want, I don't think he would mind," Al eyes are wide and horrified but he fingers the jacket and pulls it closer to him anyway.

And then my arms wrap tightly around him and I begin to cry.

* * *

_**A/N: **_Just kidding. What I really was saying was Winry is crazy! Because I can't just write a happy story. I'm trying harder, but this is what happens. I mean, I think it's pretty happy, it ends pretty happy right? Yeah. Anyway, for all the people who read and reviewed and favorited and story alerteded, you guys are beautiful. Thanks :)


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